


Anything Can Happen in the Woods

by funnylookinfella



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Fantasy, Fluff, M/M, request, werewolf kylo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 06:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21157205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funnylookinfella/pseuds/funnylookinfella
Summary: A wolf living alone in the cold, dark woods finds himself at the pointy end of a crossbow, held by a beautiful hunter in a red cloak. Kylo is used to change being painful and lonely, but he finds himself prepared to risk his life for this particular hunter's mercy.





	Anything Can Happen in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic written by committee via Twitter, where I ran polls that determined the ship, setting, dynamic, and genre. I shamelessly stole this idea from Twitter user @goth_gunnywolf, and they were kind enough to encourage me. So here is the result! I do hope I did each of the poll results justice.
> 
> (Title is also shamelessly stolen, from 'Into the Woods')

Kylo could always smell them before he could see them, the salty smell of sweat and fear clinging to the leaves and grass under his feet. Something had been by this way; there were flattened patches of grass where feet had trodden, and Kylo was hungry for whatever those feet were attached to. 

He followed the trail, deeper and darker into the trees, the full moon hanging above the tops of them and casting pale beams of light through their leaves. Claws sank into the soil as he moved. He heard a rustle in the bushes ahead, stopped, and started slowly moving toward them. 

The leaves rustled again, and this time Kylo saw a flash of red in the bed of black-green. But it fled fast, footsteps light but audible as it rushed out of the bushes and away. Kylo bounded after it, the red visible even in the dark, easy to track. He could hear little panting breaths ahead of him as he gave chase, heard the creature grow breathless, when it suddenly tripped on something in the thicket and fell to the forest floor. 

It had gotten to its feet when Kylo descended upon it, and he stopped in his tracks when he saw it. The creature was a man, willowy and pale, with red hair tucked underneath the blood-red hood of a cloak. And what was more, it was pointing a crossbow at him. 

Kylo realized the man hadn’t fallen at all, just kicked a thick branch to make it sound like he had. And now Kylo was the one with something sharp in his face. God, he thought. How could he have been so stupid? “I should have known,” he said, taking a step back. “Nothing would wear a red that bright in the woods at night unless it wanted to be followed.” 

“You should have known,” the hunter agreed. He pulled down his hood, revealing a sharp face with eyes so green Kylo could see them in the moonlight. “But you didn’t, did you?” 

“I...” Kylo felt humiliated. “I was hungry,” he said, finally, backing up against the rough bark of a tree. “I had to take the risk.” 

Something in his voice made the hunter lower the crossbow slightly, narrowing his eyes as if he thought Kylo was trying to trick him. “Hungry enough to risk being shot at?” 

“Hungry enough to know that I’d be dying either way, eventually.” Kylo slid down into a sitting position at the base of the tree’s trunk, knowing he was trapped. The hunter could easily raise the crossbow and shoot him if he tried to run, so he didn’t try. 

The hunter’s arms lowered, the crossbow resting against his thigh. Kylo knew what he was seeing: the wretched form of a wolf who looked frightening in the dark. But if the sun came up, his ribs could be counted, so long had he gone without eating. The hunter took a few cautious steps closer, the bow trained on Kylo’s chest. “The second I put this down, you would maul me.” 

Kylo shook his head. One of his ears, the one with a bite torn out of it, snagged on the rough bark and made him wince. “I’m tired,” he said. “I’m not gonna maul anything tonight. Hell, maybe I’ll never maul anything again.” 

The hunter scoffed. “Do you want me to say, ‘cheer up, you’ll be mauling things in no time’?” 

“It’d be a lie. Human hunters have taken all the deer and rabbits out of these woods.” Kylo looked idly around in the dark. “My only chance is when people like you get lost here.” 

“You could come to the city,” the hunter suggested. As he came closer, Kylo saw a patch on the hunter’s pack that read ‘A. HUX’. 

“Oh, of course I could. Come to the city, be captured, tamed like a pet.” Kylo shook his head again, this time leaning his head a bit forward. “I’d rather die than be someone’s pet.” 

Hux looked him up and down, then lowered himself to sit on the forest floor at Kylo’s level. He rested the crossbow on his knee, keeping it at the ready even as he relaxed a little. “Do you really mean that?” 

Kylo shot a glare at him. “As hard as it is to understand, yes.” 

“Pets... they have some of the nicest accommodations you could ask for in the city. Their owners positively spoil them. Some of them have their own beds, their own rooms. They get to take baths and wear soft clothes...” Hux trailed off. 

Kylo snorted. “Sounds like you wanna be a pet, not me.” 

“I don’t think I would mind it so much,” Hux said, studying Kylo’s face in the dull light. “Never worrying about money, or work.” 

“But belonging to somebody else.” 

“I suppose it depends on your priorities.” Hux shrugged his pack off and dug around in it. “Would bread help at all?” 

“Keep me from starving,” Kylo said, “but meat would be better.” 

“Well, I haven’t got any meat, unless I were to cut off my arm and give it to you, so you’ll have to make do.” He pulled out a crust of bread that had been wrapped up with his rations and held it out to Kylo. The hand that took it was huge, clawed, a reminder of how dangerous the wolf was. And yet Hux was feeling less and less in danger by the second. 

Kylo tore into the bread, letting out a little snarl as he chewed and swallowed it down. Hux watched him closely, observing the desperation with which Kylo ate the tiny bit of food. 

“If I offered to take you back to the city with me, you’d say no.” It wasn’t a question. 

Kylo wiped crumbs from his lips and chin. “Yes, I would say no.” 

“I would make a very caring owner, I think. I’ve got an extra room, even.” 

Kylo shook his head, jaw set. Hux sighed and stood, not bothering to aim the crossbow at all now. “Fine. But the offer stands.” He slung his pack back over his back and put his hood up. He looked down at Kylo, pathetic and thin against the tree, and gave him a little nod. “Goodbye... what’s your name?” 

The wolf bit his lower lip, looking up at the hunter and knowing that disclosing their names to one another would break some sort of barrier, though he couldn’t place what it was, or what it would mean. “Kylo,” he said. 

“Hux.” Turning around, Hux nudged the branch he’d kicked out of the way again and started on the path, not hearing even the slightest rustle of movement behind him. 

Kylo slept at the trunk of the tree, waking the next morning with horribly aching muscles and dirt under his human fingernails. He sat up slowly, leaves and bark in his hair, and glanced around at the sun-speckled green and brown of the forest during the day.

It was easier to be hungry as a wolf. As a human, it was almost unbearable. His muscles quivered as he stood, almost feeling dizzy when he walked to the creek to get some water. Cupping his hands, he splashed some on his face before sipping from his palms, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, in front of him was the sharp face and red hair from the night before. 

Kylo started, stumbling back, his weak legs crumbling under him and sending him falling. The hunter, Hux, reached out an arm and stepped over the small creek to steady him. Kylo turned his head and looked at Hux’s gloved hand on his bare, bony shoulder, feeling terribly inappropriate and very much in danger. 

Then he noticed what Hux carried in his other hand. A wicker basket, the handle hanging in the crook of his elbow, with something wrapped in gingham cloth nestled inside. Kylo looked from the basket to Hux’s face. “What is that?” 

“It’s for you,” Hux said. “Come here, sit down.” He walked with Kylo back to the tree and sat with him. Kylo noticed there wasn’t a weapon in sight. “I brought you something to eat.” 

Kylo stared at the basket as Hux put it down in the moss between them. “Why?” he asked, watching Hux’s leather-clad hands pull the cloth aside to reveal an assortment of foods. More bread, fruits, even some salted meat. But there had to be a catch. 

“Because it would be unfair to hunt something with such a disadvantage,” Hux said, and Kylo realized he was teasing by the look on his face. “Also because watching someone starve to death doesn’t sit well with me, believe it or not.” Hux held out a strip of salted meat, well preserved, and Kylo took it, unable to control himself for long. He tore into it, not quite so efficiently this time, his human teeth less built for it. 

Hux watched him steadily as he ate, first all of the meat in the basket, then the bread, and finally taking a bite out of a peach. Juice ran down Kylo’s stubbled chin, down his neck, and Hux had a sudden, primal urge to do something about it. He shook it off. 

Every day, Hux came back with another basket, giving Kylo a day’s food, which he ate all at once on most days, but eventually started saving for himself later in the day. It was always morning when Hux appeared, the hem of his cloak soaked with dew from the grass. 

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked Kylo one day. He had brought his own food that day, so the two of them could eat together. 

Kylo shrugged. “Even on days when I’m like this, I’m hotter than average.” He touched his own cheek. “You can feel if you want.” 

Hux blinked, taken aback by the offer, but strangely found himself reaching out with an ungloved hand and running the backs of his fingers over Kylo’s cheek. He was right; it was warm to the touch, almost hot, even with Kylo naked in the woods in the early morning. 

Still, the next day, he brought a cloak of Kylo’s own, this one dark brown. Kylo wrapped it around his shoulders tight as if he’d only just realized how cold he really was. “You’re trying to tame me,” he accused Hux as he took a bite from an apple. “It’s not going to work.” 

Hux didn’t say anything to that, just broke off a piece of bread for himself. After a while, he said, “The choice is always going to be yours.” 

The simple statement seemed to haunt Kylo that night, long after Hux had left and Kylo was huddled under his new cloak under the tree, listening to the creek trickle. If Hux was allowing him to choose, would he really, truly be a pet? Being granted a freedom like that went against everything domestication was about. Kylo had heard horror stories about wolves being captured and taken to the city, kept in kennels and trained until they were obedient. He didn’t want to know what was done to them to keep them that way. 

Somehow, Hux seemed different. He didn’t reach out to caress him until he was told. He didn’t bring his crossbow again after that first night. And more than anything, he told Kylo he could come with him, but that he didn’t have to. 

Kylo fell asleep that night thinking of Hux, of his sweet face and beautiful eyes and perfect lips. He let himself imagine going home with him, seeing his face every day. Growing close to him.

But the next day, Hux didn’t come. Anticipating that night's wolf ears and tail and claws, Kylo’s heart dropped to the bottom of his chest as he waited and waited, sitting faithfully at the trunk of the big tree, but he never heard Hux’s quiet footsteps, never saw the bright crimson of his cloak. To his horror, he felt tears burn in his eyes. It was finally the full moon again, and Hux didn’t trust Kylo when he was a wolf. He didn’t trust that Kylo wouldn’t try to attack him. The lack of faith shouldn’t have affected him the way that he did, but he felt utterly abandoned.

That night, when the moon sat high in the sky above the trees, the change took him. Kylo gritted his teeth as they elongated, hunched over and hugged his stomach as his tail burst from his spine with an audible crack. His human ears dragged upwards and changed their shape until they sat high on his head, pointed and covered in soft fur. When the change was complete, he laid for a moment on the forest floor, panting and waiting for the pain to subside. 

His eyes closed, Kylo heard a rustling in the leaves. His eyes snapped open and he recoiled into the bushes. What if Hux had changed his mind, decided he would take Kylo after all, and put a bolt through his chest? Kylo’s heart hammered; he could feel it in his head, see the throbbing at the corners of his eyes, and for a brief moment, he was sure he was going to die that night. 

Then that red cloak emerged from the thick trees, and its hood was pulled down to reveal Hux’s face, his brow knit in confusion and concern. “Kylo.”

He wasn’t carrying a weapon, but he wasn’t carrying a basket, either. Kylo felt cold and pained and lonely, but there was still an icy sliver of fear in his chest. Staying half hidden in the leaves, Kylo said, “You didn’t come.” He hated how small his voice sounded. 

“Look at me, I came,” Hux said. “I came later, because...” He got down on his knees, two or three yards away from where Kylo crouched hidden. “I’ve been doing some reading, on wolves like you. And I heard that it was painful and frightening, the transformation.” He held out a hand. “But I can only stay awake for so long, Kylo. I had to sleep so I could stay here with you tonight. I wanted to be here before the change started, but I see I was too late. I’m sorry.” 

Kylo felt his eyes fill with tears again, and humiliated, he ducked his head and sucked in a deep breath. Hux’s hand was gloved, to keep his fingers warm in the frosty air of winter, but Kylo watched as he drew it back and tugged the glove off, reaching back out with a pale, bare hand. Showing he wasn’t afraid, Kylo thought. 

He shifted forward and reached toward Hux with his hand, big and clawed as it was the day they’d met. Hux’s skin was soft, and Kylo doubted he did much of any strenuous activity without his gloves on. Slender fingers curled around his, pressing their palms together. 

Kylo came through his hiding place, at last, coming so close to Hux that their knees nearly touched as they knelt on the dirt and moss. Slowly, Hux leaned forward and pressed his lips against Kylo’s, unafraid of the sharp teeth behind them, the teeth that could so easily rip his throat out if they wanted to. 

Hux did trust him, Kylo realized. Hux’s lips felt cool compared to the heat of Kylo’s body in wolf form, and they were soft. Kylo felt himself break down, turning away from their kiss and lowering his head with a sob he couldn’t control. 

Hux frowned, concerned, and touched Kylo’s face. “What is it? I haven’t kissed anyone in quite a long time, but I wasn’t under the impression I was bad enough to merit tears.” He gave a slight smile, edged with worry. 

Kylo sniffed and looked back up at him, eyes red-rimmed and wet. “I want to come with you,” he said. “I want you to take me. If the offer still stands, please. Let me be with you, always.” He felt the loneliness, fear, and pain of the woods weigh down on him, more than it ever had, now that he knew there was another option. 

Hux smiled, wider than Kylo had ever seen, even showing teeth. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Kylo, cradling his head against his shoulder, their size difference on nights like this completely ignored. “Tomorrow I’ll bring you clothes,” he said. “And you can come back with me. You’ll never see this place again. And you’ll never be hungry again.” 

Kylo cried openly against Hux’s shoulder, feeling every weight lifted. The weight of survival, the weight of solitude. The weight of waiting for Hux every day like an anxious child. Hux was lifting it all away and making it disappear. 

He cried again at dawn, when he changed back, Hux’s eyes on him and his hand on Kylo’s back, even as his spine wrenched back as his tail disappeared. When he was human again, he was breathing hard, and Hux let him lay his head in his lap as he came back to himself. 

But sometime during the early morning, Hux had left him, and Kylo woke with his head resting on the red cloak, folded up into a makeshift pillow. Something about it being left reassured Kylo that Hux would return, and maybe Hux knew that when he’d left it there. 

Still, he couldn’t help the warmth of relief that flooded his chest when he heard Hux’s footsteps, saw him coming through the trees with a second pack tucked under his arm. The pack had clothes for him. “I guessed your size,” Hux said. “You’re much bigger than me.” The clothes were a bit tight; the breeches fit over his hips well enough, but the buttons on the tunic strained a bit at his chest. “It’ll have to do,” Hux said, “until we can get you some proper clothes.” 

It was sinking in for Kylo just what was happening. The fact that he was wearing shoes as he walked across the dirt and grass, instead of his calloused bare feet. The fact that the twigs and leaves caught in his hair had been combed away by nimble fingers. 

The fact that a home was waiting for him.


End file.
